


The Force of Deduction

by DarthAni



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blushing Sherlock, Evil Mary, Forgive my first time tagging a fic, Happy Ending, I guess I can now put, Johnlock all the way!, M/M, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson - Freeform, Slight Twist, Star Wars AU, but I don't wanna spoil the surprise!, except not really cuz I just followed most of Episode II's plot, kinda case fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-14 19:11:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9198920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthAni/pseuds/DarthAni
Summary: A long time ago, in a Baker Street far, far away… There is unrest in the Galactic Senate. Several thousand solar systems have declared their intentions to leave the Republic. This separatist movement, under the leadership of the mysterious Count Moran, has made it difficult for the limited number of Jedi Knights to maintain peace and order in the galaxy. Senator Holmes, the former prince of Naboo, is returning to the Galactic Senate to vote on the critical issue of creating an ARMY OF THE REPUBLIC to assist the overwhelmed Jedi. But it seems he’s more interested in solving crime. That is, until he meets one particular Jedi who’s assigned to protect him …





	1. Assassination of the Ambassador

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to do this for ages and decided to finally do it before S4 makes me backtrack. This is just for fun. It kind of just began writing itself with a very loose plot in mind so don’t take it too seriously or me too seriously and hopefully we’ll all have a little fun in this sadly underrepresented Sherlock au. I mostly based it off Episode II seeing as it’s the most reminiscent of an actual romantic action story. I realize a lot of people who love the prequel trilogy mostly like it for nostalgia, not because they were particularly good movies so bear with me. I took a lot of dialogue and scenes from the movie I thought were cheesy enough to be of great use or didn’t think were too bad; and reassembled those parts to better fit the characters and situations for the plot I have in mind. Some changes might be surprising since I see Sherlock as having more of Anakin’s personality and John, Padme’s. But you know I just had to make John Sherlock’s Jedi knight in shining…tunic. Rest assured that this story will have a happy ending unlike poor Anakin and Padme. And ya gotta picture Sherlock in Leia’s buns hun. That’s right. Na I’m kidding. Please enjoy and may the force be with you!

        Coruscant, being the great city of cities, was as boisterous and innocent as ever the night of the unexpected threat. Its proud rounded buildings lit the planet like glittering stars on the cold night and air-speeders buzzed around, looking for all the world like shooting stars. Sweat ran down Governor Stamford’s ruddy face as he hurried to M.F. Barts, where he knew he’d find who he was desperately looking for. He’d be in a great deal of misfortune if he didn’t find the man, especially the darker the night became.

        He dabbed his face with a handkerchief as he burst through the doors of the morgue. A sigh of relief escaped him once he spotted the ambassador of Naboo, stood writing away notes without a care in the world. It didn’t seem like he had heard a thing, his full attention still on his notebook and his black curls drooping over his eyes. His hands were predictably covered in black stains, no doubt from so many chemicals he’d use.

        “Sherlock you scared the wits out of me! How many times do I have to tell you not to sneak off?” Stamford breathed out. “And now at such a dangerous time is just reckless.” He slumped into a seat near the table, that so happened to hold what appeared to be a man whipped to death. He grimaced and dabbed at his face some more, but mostly ignored the body.

        Sherlock Holmes finally lifted his pale face from his writing to frown at his governor. “Please, Mike, there’s no reason to be so dramatic. I’m not a bloody prince.”

        “You used to be-”, but Sherlock continued on as if deaf.

        “My line of work is so mind-numbingly dull. Nobody wants me dead for it. It’s not like I do much anyway,” he said as he peered inside a small beaker.

        “Maybe you should start trying,” Mike suggested halfheartedly. He knew Sherlock found politics inferior compared to his fascination with murder and crime-solving. It was the very reason he was always running off without a single warning. It was not as if Sherlock wasn’t an asset to the country though. He was exceptionally intelligent and shared many of the same opinions of his people, even if he denied it. Even when his opinions differed, he was always right in discerning what was best for the country. He knew the goings on of the government as well as anything else he actually enjoyed, but that was the brunt of the situation. He didn’t enjoy doing what the country required of him. He preferred the other duties the cities needed from him: solving crimes. He had only been prince in relation to his older brother Mycroft. The older Holmes had been elected to be king in his teenage years by the populace, to both Sherlock’s annoyance and dismay. When his term was over he forced Sherlock to accept the offer of Ambassador and he himself became Chancellor Holmes. The only thing keeping Sherlock from running away for good was the threat of his brother cutting him off from working on cases. As king, Myrcorft had power over Jedi Master Lestrade, who allowed Sherlock to help with cold cases on the condition he stop studying the Dark Side. Lestrade had found the young prince in the restricted section inside Athr C’Nan’s Public Library of Ossus and immediately scolded him, saying it was no way for a prince to behave, or anyone else for that matter. Master Lestrade turned him over to the king after that. Mycroft had been furiously disappointed in his younger brother. Sherlock tried to argue that his interest in the Dark Side of the Force was innocent curiosity, but Mycroft wouldn’t have it. He rambled on about how it would make him look, that it’d be the scandal of the century. Sherlock kept his promise, but only just. He had never felt so humiliated and betrayed. He never let the blow of his older brother’s complete control over him go. What was more, Mycroft’s constant watch over him provoked him to misbehave in any safe way he could. Running off at night to the morgue a few days before a big debate was just one of them.

        Sherlock hummed distractedly in response to Mike as he poured the contents of the tiny beaker into a petri dish. The rounder man took his spectacles off to clean them on the fabric of his robe as he sighed in defeat once more.

        “Sherlock, you’re so much more important than you believe.”

        At that, the doors of the lab slid open and in walked the Pathologist Molly Hooper. Her brown ponytail swayed back and forth as she carried a mug of coffee over to Sherlock. She gave an awkward, but cheery “hello” to Mike. Sherlock thanked her, which made Molly beam.

        “And your brother’s heart would break at your loss.” Mike continued with a poorly hidden smirk.

        Sherlock nearly choked on his coffee and began coughing. Molly patted his back worriedly, but quickly tried to stifle her own laughter after catching the look on Mike’s face.

        “What the _hell_ Mike?” he spluttered.

        “Are you alright?” Molly asked.

        “I will be as soon as the both of you leave me in peace to finish my experiment.”

        Before either Mike or Molly could voice their offense, the room rumbled at the same time as a loud BANG sounded off in the distance. The three held their arms out for balance, Molly failing and practically falling into Sherlock’s chest. She blushed as he impatiently brushed her off.

        “What was _that_?” Mike asked to nobody in particular.

        Like usual, Sherlock dashed out of the lab without a word, with Mike and Molly rushing after him. People and other species were evacuating left and right in the halls, to see the commotion outside. Once there, they could all see smoke spiraling from a building near the Senate. There were screams and gasps all down the street as more and more people came out to look.

        “Sherlock, wasn’t your decoy there?” Mike asked in a constricted voice. Molly held her hands to her mouth, silent tears sliding down her face.

        “And my brother,” was all Sherlock said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won’t pretend to know how successions between government and royalty works, especially in the Star Wars universe. Or how politics work in any universe for that matter. When researching (albeit just a tiny pathetic amount) I found that Padme is referred to as both a senator and an ambassador. I’m not sure if there’s any difference between the two or if they’re just synonyms. I’ve also only ever seen the movie franchise. Never have read any of the books that have spawned over the years after the original trilogy so apologies if there are any contradictions to the extended canon. Feel free to correct me on anything I might’ve gotten wrong!


	2. The Padawan’s Promise

        “But Mycroft!”

        It was the morning following the attempt on Sherlock’s life. Though Mycroft had managed to survive the bomb, Sherlock’s double wasn’t as fortunate. The wreckage could be seen through the large concaved windows of the Senate room, of which they were currently arguing in. The people were in a quiet sense of panic, leading Mycroft to believe Sherlock needed high level security and surveillance (well, more than usual).

        “Enough, Sherlock. If you weren’t always mysteriously disappearing maybe I would have decided differently-”

        “Bullocks! You’re always trying to-”

        “-FURTHERMORE, you continue to act like a child, and so I will continue to _treat_ you like one.”

        Sherlock grit his teeth together. Mycroft wasn’t fazed.

        “If I had listened to you _I_ would have been the one in that building, and _I_ would’ve been the one who was killed!”

        Mycroft did not flinch, but concern flitted over his eyes for a brief moment.

        “Even if you did listen to me and remained in one spot, you’d still be at a high risk without protection. Master Sholto and his apprentice are more than qualified for th-”

        “Mycroft! You and I both know I’m _perfectly_ qualified to take care of myself!” Sherlock spat, eyes narrowed with a knowing gaze towards his brother.

        Mycroft’s frown deepened as he leaned forward in his chair slightly.

        “Leave us,” he said to the attendants in the room. Once it was only him and Sherlock, he moved to stand in front of the tall window, overlooking the Senate District. Ash was still visibly descending where the explosion had taken place. Sherlock remained where he was, glaring at his brother’s back.

        “How many times must I remind you, Brother Dear, that we have appearances to uphold?”

        “Just because you leave me bodyguard-less doesn’t mean people will suddenly know, Mycroft. You know they’re all idiots,” Sherlock said with a sneer.

        “Idiots or not, we can’t take any risks. And Master Sholto and his padawan will be arriving shortly and you _will_ do well to treat them with respect; and that. Is. _Final._ ”

        Sherlock did not stop grumbling even after Mycroft forced him out of the room to receive the Jedi knights’ arrival. He remained stoic and in the background when they appeared, accompanied by a few councilmen. Nobody paid him any attention while Mycroft came out to address them all, that is, except for the padawan learner.

        Sherlock watched him with masked interest as the apprentice politely nodded his head in greeting to the room. He didn’t speak unless spoken to, and was soon looking around the room, almost as if bored. That’s when he caught Sherlock’s eye. The first thing he noticed about the padawan was that his eyes were a deep blue and held a curiosity as they gazed back at his own unusual ones. The man was shorter than Sherlock had imagined, but looked to be a few years older. His sandy blonde hair had the telltale cut of a human padawan trainee, short with the one braid extended at the back of his head. Sherlock’s eyes cast downward to see he was wrapped in the signature tunic uniform. At his waist, he caught sight of what was undoubtedly his lightsaber, dangling at his side. Sherlock’s determination to appear disinterested and sullen was left forgotten as he admired the weapon. He had always wanted to construct one for himself and wondered what it would be like to use it. When his brother snapped him back to reality it seemed he had also forgotten that the padawan learner was still observing him. He was smirking at him, his curiosity more amused than puzzled now. Sherlock’s heart unexpectedly sped up at the sight and he had to look away.

        “Our presence here will be invisible my Lord, I can assure you,” the much older Jedi said as he shook Mycroft’s hand. He was absurdly tall, when compared to his trainee, but possibly just a few inches taller than Sherlock himself. A large and nasty scar stretched across his serious face, no doubt caused by powers of the Dark Force. Sherlock also noted that his left arm was a cybernetic one.

        “I’m Captain Anthea of Lord Mycroft’s security service. Queen Janine has been informed of your assignment. I am grateful you are here Master Sholto. The situation is more dangerous than the senator will admit.”

        It was the most Sherlock had ever heard the captain say without reading off her tablet and he found her words too insulting not to react.

        “I don’t need more security, I need answers and I can find them on my own.”

        Both Jedi and the council were slightly taken aback at his sudden outburst, but Master Sholto was the first to recover.

        “We are here to protect you senator, not assist in an investigation.”

        “The only reason you think I need protection is because of my idiotic brother.”

        “We will not go over this again Sherlock, they will do as the council has instructed. Now behave yourself,” said Mycroft.

        Everyone watched with nervous fascination at the rising tension between the two brothers.

        “Why else were they assigned to me if not to find my killer? Protections is a job for local security, not Jedi. It’s overkill, _Chancellor_. Investigation is implied in their mandate.”

        “You will obey my command and you are not to question it again. _Little. Brother.”_

        Sherlock glared at Mycroft as silence grew, impossibly uncomfortable.

        “With all due respect, Master, we could protect him while he investigates don’t you think?” the padawan asked, to everyone’s surprise.

        “What?” Master Sholto said, turning away from the brothers.

        “I meant that in the interest of protecting him, Master, of course.”

        “John, the Chancellor clearly wants us to watch over him. Nothing more.”

        So his name was John.

        “And we will. Who’s to say we can’t protect him while he investigates? We have to protect him no matter what he does anyway. If he wants to find out who’s trying to kill him, I’d say he has the right to. And we would be poor examples of Jedi if we could not do our duty simply because he’s moving around. He’s not a prisoner.”

        Sherlock’s jaw was close to dropping. He gave a sideways glance at his brother to gauge his reaction. Mycroft was pressing his lips into a thin line of disapproval; Sherlock almost cracked a smile.

        “It puts him in more danger, my young padawan.”

        “I’ve dealt with dangerous cases before, Master Sholto,” Sherlock interjected, “I solve crimes for the city and am quite successful. I shall have no trouble solving my own case.”

        “Who will look into his pursuer if not us?” John added reasonably. He was able to argue with such an air of politeness that it left Sherlock blinking repeatedly. He had to learn how to do that. How to be persuasive…in a respectable way. A charming way.

        “Well…I suppose…” Master Sholto considered, “We’ll still be doing what the council asks of us. Perhaps with our mere presence, the mystery surrounding this threat will be revealed?” Master Sholto tilted his head in question to Mycroft as if for permission.

        Mycroft nodded his head curtly, not looking happy in the least.

        From the corner of his eye, Sherlock saw John mirroring a smile of success.

        “It’s settled then!” Sherlock said brightly, “I’ll start looking into it right away. Now, if you’ll excuse me. I will retire.”

        Conversation broke the quiet of the room as the council members delved into other topics. They were all slowly making their way out the exits, but John discreetly made his way towards Sherlock, grinning all the way.

        “Don’t worry, we will find out who’s trying to kill you. I promise.” He whispered reassuringly.

        Sherlock frowned. “I’m not worried,” but his pounding heart had other ideas apparently.

        John almost looked hurt at his response, but at that moment his master called him and he was forced to leave.

        He realized he was staring after John, when he felt his brother’s eyes boring into him. He turned his head away, for some reason feeling rather warm in the face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Janine was an odd choice to be the queen of Naboo, but since Padme admitted that she wouldn't have become ambassador if her queen hadn't asked, I thought it'd be best to make the queen a sort of friend to Sherlock, even if he wouldn't be as close as Padme is with her queen. I had already used Mike, Molly, and Lestrade and I definitely wasn't going to use Mary for this part. She's a bounty hunter in my mind for this AU ;D But I'm not sure if I'll include her in the fic to be honest...


	3. Chasing Clues

        A thousand stories high in the Senate District, a silhouetted figure stood waiting in front of large backlit signs that encompassed the side of the skyscraper. Among the many speeders zooming by, there was only one the figure was focused on. It emitted a low humming noise as it parked at the edge. The figure approached as the driver stepped out. He was an old, greying man with rat-like teeth.

        “I destroyed the building, but he wasn’t there. It was a decoy,” said the driver.

        “We’ll have to try something more subtle this time. My boss is getting impatient,” the other figure said.

        From her pocket, she pulled out a glass vial containing two kouhans, and handed it to the driver.

        “Take these. Be careful, they’re very poisonous.”

        The driver took them and nodded. He got back into his speeder, but not before the first figure gave him a warning about no more mistakes.

        It didn’t take him long to find where Senator Holmes was truly staying. He chose to park a few skystreets away from the Senate to insert the kouhuns into his courier droid. It secured the vial without a problem and sped off for its target.

        Said target was feigning sleep at that very moment, hiding a smirk beneath his blanket at his own clever plan. He knew John and Master Sholto were talking just outside his room, but it was difficult to tell if they were speaking of him or not. He felt that they were. It had taken him an embarrassingly long time to realize that John could see him via the camera placed in his room, therefore saw all the research and experimenting he had been doing before night had fallen. He hadn’t heard a sound then. Just his own muttering and his astromech droid’s beeping. Master Sholto had come up merely a few minutes ago to start a conversation. Sherlock wondered if John had been bored in keeping an eye on him all that time in silence or if he already thought Sherlock to be a freak and was relaying the amusing details to his master. He tugged his blanket further up his face and tossed around restlessly. It didn’t matter what John thought. He didn’t expect anything good anyway. Even if John miraculously saw…something in Sherlock, he wouldn’t be allowed to do anything about it. Sherlock shifted to his side as he thought about the Jedi’s oath to never entangle in a romantic relationship. He wondered if John ever got tired of it, felt lonely. He thought it must be lonely for most Jedi. It was a sacrifice in their eyes. Something given up for the greater good. He suspected John was one of the foolish creatures to think so. It was just his manner. Most seemed to think love was the best experience in the galaxy. If Sherlock were a Jedi he definitely wouldn’t have a problem with that rule. He didn’t confront it now, whilst not being a Jedi. He clutched his pillow closer to his face. Why was he even thinking these things?

        He huffed in self-annoyance when suddenly he felt a surge of adrenaline. He uncovered his face to see a courier droid floating right outside his window. It hummed as it ejected a glass vial through the pane. Out of the vial, poured out two arthropods. They plopped down onto the carpet with dull thuds. Sherlock leaped out of bed towards his window to get a better look at the droid before it escaped; but just then John burst through the door, a beam rising out of his lightsaber to bathe the dark room in a bright blue light as he ignited it. In the same clean swooping motion, he sliced through the two slithering creatures that had gotten dangerously close to Sherlock’s bare feet. Master Sholto was right behind him, his own lightsaber on and at the ready. Sherlock was momentarily startled by the slaughter of the kouhuns and John’s sudden proximity, but quickly turned angry when he saw the courier droid fleeing from the corner of his eye.

        “The droid is getting away!” he cried out, pointing at it.

        Without a word, Sholto broke through the window and leapt onto the flying droid. John and Sherlock didn’t lose any time in watching the two blend into the millions of city lights.

        “Wait here!” John said right before dashing out of the room.

 _Like Hell,_ Sherlock thought as he shouted to R2B1, “Stash those somewhere safe!”

        R2B1 beeped in reply and ever the obedient little droid, scooped up the remains of the kouhans as his master quickly put on his shoes to chase after John.

        He had fallen behind for putting on his shoes, but caught up to John quickly enough. “What are you doing? I told you to stay in your room!” John scolded as he skidded to a stop.

        “I could’ve caught the droid if it hadn’t been for you and your master!” Sherlock retorted. “I was the bait! You said I had a right to find out who my killer is!”

        “I wasn’t about to let those things kill you! I saved your arse! And I never said you could go after your killer! It’s too dangerous!”

        “I can take care of myself and no it’s not! I’m going!”

        “UGH FINE! We’re wasting time. We have to catch up to Master Sholto, he could be in trouble!”

        They bound down the hallways and out into the cold night air. They stopped to check the sky, but it was impossible to detect either Master Sholto or the courier droid in the chaos of traffic.

        “We need a speeder!” John shouted over the wind.

        Sherlock pushed his bangs out of his eyes as he scanned the area.

        “Over there!”

        Several speeders were parked a little away so they jumped into the closest one that held two seats. John revved up the ignition and they were off in the air. In just a few turns Sherlock detected them.

        “They’re over there!”

        “You have really good eyesight,” John said, sounding as if he hadn’t meant to say the words aloud at all.

        Nonetheless he pulled down lower to reach his free-falling master. Just as they were getting close however, the droid they were chasing was blasted out of the sky, along with Master Sholto.

        “Hang on!” John cried as he propelled the speeder at a steeper angle. He accelerated down and managed to catch Master Sholto before crashing into another speeder. All three ignored the insults and honking in favor of wondering how Master Sholto was supposed to fit in a two passenger speeder.

        Sherlock could hear the Jedi argue as Master Sholto remained sprawled over the windscreen, but tuned them out as he noticed a conspicuous figure boarding their own vehicle.

        “Both of you shut up and go after that speeder!” he yelled.

        John did as he was told.

        “That way!” Sherlock said.

        “But he went tha-”

        “I know this city better than the two of you combined!”

        “John you can’t just-” Master Sholto sputtered as his padawan turned the speeder in the direction Sherlock suggested.

        “But Master, he has-”

        “Oh I don’t believe this,” Master Sholto sighed. He then proceeded to leap off the windscreen.

        He landed on the would-be-assassin’s speeder, which was far below John and Sherlock. Sherlock smirked at his correct prediction and held on tightly as John sped up once again. The figure driving the other speeder was shooting through his rooftop in the hopes of hitting Master Sholto. Not the most dignified way of getting rid of the Jedi, Sherlock thought, but it appeared effective as Master Sholto had to keep dodging erratic blasts.

        Finally, the driver accidentally blasted his control panel and it burst into flames. The speeder descended at an alarming rate, forcing John to follow. He didn’t hesitate. The old man’s speeder crashed down in the middle of an outdoor market. Some pedestrians screamed and ran from the wreckage while others came close to help the driver and Master Sholto. He assured the people that he was fine and apprehended the driver. John and Sherlock rushed over to the older Jedi and the wounded driver. The four made their way to a more deserted alleyway where the driver could sit down.

        “John, get him out of here,” Master Sholto ordered John without taking his eyes off the driver.

        John was about to pull Sherlock gently by the arm, but Sherlock shoved him away.

        “What? No! I want to question him. You said I could be part of the investigation.”

        “Not now,” Master Sholto said sternly as he nodded for John to take him away.

        “I’m not leaving! Who hired you to kill me?”

        Master Sholto swore, but Sherlock knelt down to get a better listen. John hesitated before doing the same.

        “My arm…” the old man whined.

        “Here,” John said, taking the injured arm into his hands to try and soothe it.

        “Who do you work for?” Master Sholto tried again.

        “…was just a job-” the old man mumbled until John tightened his grip and asked calmly, “Who hired you, tell us.”

        The hit man stared at John, as did Sherlock. Seconds passed and Sherlock was growing impatient, but then the old man started to speak.

        “Was bounty hunter call-” his speech was cut off by a dart shooting straight into his neck. His face shriveled up in what appeared to be his true form as a changeling. John caught his crumpling body in shock.

        The trajectory of where the dart had come from led their gaze to a masked person flying away by jetpack.

        “Mor…mor…” the old man garbled as his last breathe. He shuttered then went still. John checked his pulse.

        “Dead,” he confirmed.

        Master Sholto didn’t say anything. His shoulders were tense and he frowned up at the spot where the floating person had just been.

        “More what?” John questioned out loud.

        The corner of Sherlock’s mouth quirked up.

        “I have no idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was interesting because apparently I had skipped it completely. I don't know if I forgot about it or decided never putting it in in the first place, so I thought why the hell not? Lots more research happened, unexpected seeing as this was just supposed to be for fun and no perfectionism going on. But it was fun. So there's that :) And look at that. Just in the last chapter I said I didn't know if I wanted to include Mary in this fic or not and I realize I have the perfect opportunity to put her in. Let me know if you want her to be the bounty hunter and if you're enjoying my story so far!


	4. Attachment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize this is my longest chapter so far. I didn't plan to end this chapter here, but it would've been even longer if I hadn't. I forget why that was important...  
> Before you read this chapter see if you can guess why I named Sherlock's droid the way I did ;D Another droid in here as well. Both should be easy enough to deduce.  
> Oh and also I didn't notice that my first three chapter titles are all alliterations until I did the third. I know I'm lame, but maybe it's kinda funny/silly to you guys? What do you think, should I continue the alliterations?

        “An extended leave of absence? Dear me, I don’t know if that is good or bad news,” Unit M5H7 remarked in her strange elderly-woman type of voice.

        The protocol droid had nannied Sherlock since he was a toddler. Her old age would cause her to malfunction from time to time, specifically the part personifying a hip, but she still filled her main purpose: fussing over Sherlock. He held great fondness over her, and she of him. He preferred to call her Mrs. Hudson, as he considered her more human than any other actual human. He tolerated her more, anyway. It was she who had managed to convince Sherlock to accept the ambassadorship when Mycroft threatened to take his cases away. They were currently in his room packing for Naboo.

        R2B1, who Sherlock liked to call Redbeard when alone, had cleared all the glass from the carpet and was currently hibernating in the corner. Sunlight reflected off his red stripes and the various beakers piled in the luggage that was on the bed. It was a spacious room, with a high ceiling and the newly repaired window making up one entire side. Now that Sherlock’s mess was mostly packed and out of sight, it was back to its former spotless state. It was an aesthetically pleasing room to be sure, but Sherlock found it dull. He preferred his own room back on Naboo. He was eager to continue his detective work there.

        “I would think you’d be going off the walls with the idea of hiding. But I suppose this will be like a holiday to you.”

        “I will not be hiding Mrs. Hudson, just laying low,” Sherlock said as he packed up the last of his clothing next to his violin case.

        “Yes, it was a bit inane of Mycroft to give me a leave of absence, but they're letting me lead an investigation on my own attempted murder case! It _is_ a holiday!” He leapt into the air with raised fists. R2B1 whirred awake and beeped in equal excitement.

        “Oh I just hope you do clear up this dreadful business soon. I was so worried when I heard Billy was killed. It could’ve easily been you.”

        Mrs. Hudson maneuvered her mauve arm to caress one of Sherlock’s cheeks. He shrugged her off hastily in order to continue packing his experiments.

        “Don’t worry, I will. Let’s just see if I let my brother and the council know immediately after I’ve solved it.”

        Sherlock flashed a wicked grin at his robotic nanny. She merely tutted in beeps.

        Sherlock didn’t get a chance to talk to John on the ride to the Spaceport. He sat in between Mrs. Hudson and his new decoy in silence while John sat next to Master Sholto. Mycroft, unfortunately, was also accompanying them. When they landed Captain Anthea wished him a safe journey which he brushed off with a roll of his eyes. He was about to bid Mrs. Hudson goodbye when Mycroft grasped his arm.

        “Sherlock, don’t do anything without consulting either the council or myself is that clear?”

        “Pftt.”

        “ _Sherlock.”_

        “Yes. Of course, _Chancellor,”_ Sherlock gave a mock bow as he overemphasized the title.

        Oddly enough, just behind Mycroft he could hear Master Sholto dismiss John. He was about to ask why Master Sholto wasn’t coming after all, when Mrs. Hudson stepped in front of him.

        “Goodbye Sherlock, dear.”

        “Goodbye Mrs. Hudson.”

        “What’s this then? Not going to hug this ol’ hunk of metal farewell?”

        It was loud enough for John to hear and Sherlock didn’t understand why that was suddenly so important. He felt his ears burn as he gave Mrs. Hudson the quickest hug in history before stepping off the airbus.

        “John. May the force be with you.”

        “May the force be with you Master,” John replied.

        After that it was just Sherlock, R2B1, and John, with the padawan becoming unusually tense.

        “What is it?” Sherlock asked quickly.

        “Nothing. It’s just…This is my first assignment on my own.”

        “We have R2B1 with us. Why _isn’t_ Master Sholto joining in?”

        John kept his gaze ahead as they neared the next boarding vessel. It looked as if he wanted to speak, but couldn’t bring himself to do so.

        “What? What is it?” Sherlock asked, stopping them both on their path.

        John wouldn’t look him in the eye when he answered.

        “Chancellor Holmes felt it would be more suitable for everyone involved if Master Sholto continued the investigation on his own, while we stay safely out of harm’s-“

        “WHAT? I can’t believe this!” Sherlock cried in outrage. “Oh what am I talking about, _of course_ I do _._ He thinks he’s _so_ clever getting me to play in his _little game.”_

        “Uh, Senator Holmes, we should get on the aircraft now. We don’t want to be late,” John pointed out all the while Sherlock continued to mutter insults about his brother.

        “Oh shut up! You’re a part of all this too. All in his little… circle!”

        “I thought you said it was his _little game,”_ John replied sarcastically.

        “No.”

        “But you just-”

        “You conveniently forgot to tell me the change of plans until now, is that it? What? Did he also tell you to support me that day in the council room? That was all just an act wasn’t it? The night you let me chase after the courier droid too. All to gain my trust.”

        “Wow, okay. Sensing a bit of paranoia in regards to your brother,” John said, rolling his eyes.

        He boarded the vessel in hope that Sherlock would follow despite still complaining about the turn of events. Thankfully his anger was enough to distract him and he followed probably without a thought as to where he was going. John tried to ignore the tirade in favor of looking for empty seats.

        “It’s not paranoia. It’s a perfectly sound presumption. Mycroft is a nosy insufferable know-it-all who will do everything in his power to keep me from getting what I want!”

        “He’s really that bad huh?” John asked, sounding like he couldn’t care less, “Because it sounds like you _never_ get what you want.”

        He found seats and motioned for Sherlock to slide in so he’d be the one next to the window, leaving John free to guard Sherlock from the aisle seat. Sherlock scowled at him before doing so gracefully, while somehow also managing to look murderous. R2B1 placed himself between the two humans, making low beeping sounds.

        “You said it, R2!” Sherlock said.

        “Hey look, _you’re_ the one who put yourself in danger by revealing who you were to that hit man the other night. I’m supposed to be protecting you, not driving you to your near death. My master was really cross with me after that, I’ll have you know. He still doesn’t understand why I let you tag along.

        “Well because-“

        “I _know alright_? I get it. I’d want to face whoever wanted me dead too, but it’s not like I can just disobey my superiors.”

 _You_ _can’t,_ Sherlock mischievously corrected in his head. He had to find a way to sneak away from John to search for clues, and going by his considerate nature it would be no problem to fool him.

        “I meant what I said in that council room. I really wanted to help you investigate your killer. But thanks to what you did that other night, I can’t. It was a stupid risk.”

        “Please. You didn’t want to help me. You’re just a people pleaser and wanted me to trust you. What a stupid lie.”

        “Seriously? You’re so paranoid!”

        “Don’t tell me you’re still trying to convince me that you’re on my side.”

        “I _was_ on your side,” John said furrowing his eyebrows and stubbornly looking ahead instead of at Sherlock.

        Sherlock hesitated before asking, “You were? You think I deserve to find my own attacker?” He didn’t mean it to come out so timid.

        “Yeah I did, but I’m starting to see why someone’s so bent on killing you off.” To both their surprise, John’s comment brought a smile to Sherlock’s face. He refrained from laughing though.

        “You think I’m a spoiled brat.”

        “Well you did used to be a prince. I thought you’d be one of those quiet, boring types, easy enough to get along with, but I guess I should’ve known you’d be a pain in the arse,” John muttered the last part under his breathe.

        “Most Jedi think that of council members so it’s not surprising for you to have thought so, even if you were remarkably wrong. Most are that way, mind you, so you’re not a complete idiot.”

        “Did you just complement me, then insult me, then kind of do both at the same time?” John asked, incredulous.

        “Take it however you wish. I’m not boring in any sense of the word. I’m a genius.”

        “A genius. Really? Then tell me how your older brother was able to ‘oh so cleverly’ trick you into his game?” He was smirking again, which in turn had Sherlock bristling.

        “He’s one of the few who happen to be smarter than me. _Slightly._ I can see right through you. You were a slave from Tatooine.”

        John’s eyebrows rose warily in surprise. “How’d you know that?”

        “Your braid.”

        “My braid?”

        “And your clothes. They’re very clean, but old. Like with food and living quarters, I imagine you are given free necessities by the Jedi Temple. And yet you choose to wear out your clothes for as long as possible. It could be because you’re simply a fastidious person-your lightsaber is also impeccable- but even your braid is worn out from care. Most other padawans wouldn’t give their braid a second thought. You like to feel like you own a worldly possession, meaning you’re still not used to the Jedi life. That says you started out late-most padawans are accustomed to it by your age, and their lightsabers show more damage from having used it since childhood. Yours is just like everything else you wear, old, but well looked after. I also noticed how you handled the hit man’s arm the other night.”

        “What about it?”

        “It showed how you’re a natural healer- it wasn’t just obligation that motivated you but passion. You had hopes of being a doctor before becoming a Jedi. Usually padawans aren’t old enough to start dreaming of being anything else when they’re admitted to the order. It’s the only career they expect out of life. So you were definitely older. Why would a padawan start older? You were found, not admitted by family. And yet you miss your old way of life, which means you had to leave family on less than ideal terms. Can’t have been a father because you regard your master affectionately as if he is yours. You’d resent him if you left your real father behind. That makes me think you left behind either a mother or siblings, perhaps both. Why wouldn’t they be able to come with you? Slavery.”

        John gaped, looking back and forth from his clothes to Sherlock. “Alright, but how’d you know specifically Tatooine?”

        “Shot in the dark, good one though. Your unusual tan and bright hair seem due to excess of sunlight rather than mere biology. You grew up somewhere incredibly sunny. Somewhere excessively hot with plenty of slavery? Tatooine.”

        The deep drone of the transport bus suddenly felt really loud, now that Sherlock had ended his monologue. They were high in the air, getting close to reaching the Stratosphere. Sherlock tried to focus on unusual characteristics of clouds through the window as he awaited John’s outrage. But it never came. He was still gaping at Sherlock, his cobalt eyes wide in wonder. He felt a small, unapproved swoop in his stomach at the sight.

         “Wow, that was amazing,” John said.

        “Y-you think so?”

        “Of course it was. It was extraordinary. It was _quite_ extraordinary.”

        “That’s not what they usually say.”

        “What do they usually say?”

        “Bwreep oooop!” R2B1 supplied helpfully, making John and Sherlock break out into laughter. After a moment they got their breath back and John asked, “You always look that closely at people’s braids?”

        It took a few flustered blinks for Sherlock to realize that John was teasing him. Apparently in good humor. He tried to laugh off his awkwardness, but had to turn away to hide from John’s crooked smile.

        R2B1 gave a coy whistle.

        “Shut up,” said Sherlock.

        John laughed again.

 

        Later at lunchtime they moved to the food tables along with the rest of the passengers to eat. R2B1 returned from the food line with two trays. He placed one in front of John, then Sherlock, who grimaced at his meal. He rolled his utensil in his hand, swirling the sludge only for it to fall back into the bowl. John laughed as he took a few bites.

        “Well I can tell _you’ve_ never been a slave. This stuff not good enough for His Majesty’s delicate digestion?”

        Sherlock scoffed, but gave a little smile, looking down.

        “Used to only eating the _sweetest_ delicacies fresh from the palace gardens my Prince?

        Sherlock set his utensil aside and rolled his eyes, even as he felt his face heat up.

        “It doesn’t matter to me what it is, I just normally don’t like to. Especially not while I’m on a case. And I’m not a prince.”

        “But you’re not on a case,” John sighed as he took another bite and added, “You were a prince though.”

        Sherlock scoffed again. “We’ll see about the case. Must be difficult, having sworn your life to the Jedi… Not being able to visit the places you like or do the things you like.”

        “Or be with the people that I love,” John said quietly, jabbing at vegetable in his bowl.

        “You’re not allowed to love. It’s forbidden,” Sherlock was quick to correct.

        John’s smile was sad as he continued to look at his pathetic excuse for a meal.

        “Attachment is forbidden. Possession is forbidden. Compassion,” at this he looked up directly at Sherlock, “which I would define as unconditional love is central to a Jedi’s life.” Sherlock’s heart was speeding up. “So you might say we are encouraged to love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was already close to being done before I started Chapter 3 so I had to go back and correct some things. It was so DIFFICULT coming up with deductions for an entirely different universe! On top of that John couldn't even have any worldly possessions or souvenirs from his childhood past. I even thought of Sherlock detecting a slight Toydarian accent in him dsjlDKJSLDKF or having a carving on his lightsaber.  
> But then John healing the hit man's arm in the previous chapter came in handy for this one eyy  
> Anyway I found all the dialogue between da boyfrans very difficult. Hope it didn't feel like they said too much without saying anything.  
> In a world where there are DOZENS of alien species and races, I imagine there are far more genders, sexualities, orientations, and identities than even our own real world. At least I'd think it stupid if it weren't that way so John's bi-sexuality is not repressed at all. I thought I was gonna make their romance subtle at first, but John can't help himself. He's a shameless flirt okay, it's in his nature.


	5. Sherlock Season 4 Spoilers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not an actual chapter and yes there is one major spoiler if you continue to read.

Okay sorry no actual chapter this time.  
I'm actually heartbroken about Johnlock not being canon. Yeah I'm one of those people who had high hopes for it and and I'm sorry but I don't have the heart to continue this, at least for now. I need time and then you can let me know if you really wish for me to continue. I don't have many people reading this so I don't think I've made an impact of any kind. But I rather not crush people's feelings further if they're looking to fanfiction for comfort. I myself am struggling to cope. I want to read more fanfiction to feel better, but ironically can't bring myself to read them because it hurts too. So in conclusion I'm conflicted and don't know what to do. That's why I need time. Please let me know if you really wish for me to continue this. My heart is with all of you who are also devastated <3 Take care of yourselves please!


	6. It's Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short version: I'm coming back.

I went over it many times. I tried to analyse what I felt and why I felt it and I've come to the conclusion that it's okay that I was hurt. It's okay if I loved the series even if it was for something it wasn't. It's okay that I didn't love or hate the last episode. It's okay that I still love seasons 1-3 and am conflicted about 4. It's okay if we were wrong. It's okay if were were right and are told we're crazy to still believe that it was a mistake. Either way I will always love Johnlock. And it's hard to hold hope for another episode, as it's been rumored, but here I go again huh? Haven't learned my lesson have I. Well that's okay too. Even if I'm heartbroken again, I'll come back to this. I'll come back to what I love because I refuse to have my happiness taken away again. And maybe it'll hurt too much to create art or write fics now and again, but that too, is okay. I'll take time when needed as should anyone else who feels the same (which I've discovered are many in fact). Take time. Heal. And come back to love this ship again because we love it and we'll always love Johnlock. At least I will. I will always love Johnlock.

p.s. Thank you for the kind comments and respect.


	7. A New Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life got dreadfully busy. How dull.  
> But look, a new chapter!  
> Btw Sherlock’s about 17-18 years old in my fic and John is 22-23

  
       Naboo was by far the most beautiful planet John had ever visited. He had been there before for Jedi teachings, but never got to truly enjoy his time there. Unlike Tattooine or Coruscant, it was brimming with foliage and crystal clear waterfalls pouring over high cliffs. Fountains with the same crystalline water were as abundant as the plants and waterfalls. Greenery even covered most of the stone buildings. The enormous stone structures were ancient, but kept in good conditions, circular, and topped with turquoise domes. The palace, understandably, was the biggest building. It loomed over its surrounding buildings at the end of a clean pathway that cut across the courtyard’s circular pond. With every step closer to the palace, the young padawan felt like he was stepping farther away from his old life and being led into a new one. As he looked over at Sherlock, he wasn’t in any rush to reach the throne room. John, finally, could literally smell the roses. And the millions of other species of flowers in the passing bushes. The water glittered like the jewels adorning the folk walking around. He didn’t feel out of place in his refugee costume though. It was a far cry from wearing slave clothes around these fancy people, that’s for sure. And Sherlock, for all his arrogance and drama, didn’t seem to conform quite to his class’s sense of lavish wardrobe. John turned to see the young ambassador. He was wearing refugee clothes too, a cover for now, and just a little more sophisticated than John’s own, but Sherlock’s robes were normally just as elegant as the important people walking by, only with a certain subtlety to them. A subtlety that made his own unique features stand out in their beauty. Sherlock was looking directly ahead as they approached the steps to the palace, his face more lovely than anything else on Naboo. John smiled to himself. Yes, this was the start of another life. A new one full of hope.

      Upon seeing the queen approaching them from the other side of the throne room, he shook out his thoughts in favor of focusing on his job. There was no point in dwelling in what could never be.

      Sherlock stepped up to the queen, not bothering to acknowledge her advisors and handmaidens. But the queen didn’t seem offended in any way. On the contrary, one look at Sherlock and her grim face turned a little less serious. If she weren’t in front of her subjects, John would even dare to say she’d show how relieved she actually was.

      “We’ve been worried about you. I’m so glad you’re safe Sherlock.”

      “Apologies that I didn’t even get the chance to vote against the republic’s army, that I was so looking forward to do,” Sherlock said, his tone mocking Queen Janine’s concern without any real spite.

      “I’m sure Queen Janine understands, considering the circumstances, M’Lord,” said an elderly man, unaware of Sherlock’s sarcasm. “And much more pleased that you agreed to come see her.” Sherlock gave him a tight smile. John had to refrain from laughing.

      The queen and Sherlock continued on, discussing the problems arising in the Republic. Sherlock sighed often and spoke as if he were bone tired, but answered all of Queen Janine’s questions. John could tell he was bored of the subject, but understood its importance. When the conversation opened in the topic of the Jedi Order John was eager to say his part and not just stand around like some gnat on the wall.

      “We must keep our faith in the Republic. The day we stop believing in democracy can work, is the day we lose it. In the meantime we must consider your own safety,” Queen Janine said. Sherlock scoffed. “What are your suggestions Master Jedi?” Queen Janine asked, with a hint of a smirk when Sherlock’s face took an expression of utmost offence.

      He almost spoke over the end of her sentence, saying quickly and heatedly, “John’s not a Jedi yet, Janine.”

      “Queen Janine, my Lord!” the governor corrected in shock at Sherlock’s casualness.

      “He’s still a padawan learner, but if anyone would like to know what I—”

      “Oy!” John uttered.

      “Honestly John don’t be like that, it’s fact. Now as I was say—”

      “Sherlock!” John snarled, the corners of his nose wrinkling. “You refer to him as my Lord! M-master Jedi!” the governor stammered awkwardly, but once again he was ignored by all. “I am in charge of security here!” John shot back.

      “John, remember what you said that first day we met. And what I did on Coruscant. And the transport bus. I’m not some helpless idiot like you thought I’d be and I know you think I’m capable of figuring out what’s the best plan of action! We’re on my home planet now, lightyears away from Master Sholto, where the real danger is, and I know this place even better than Coruscant. Don’t you think after everything I was able to deduce about you that you should take advantage of my knowledge?”

      Queen Janine’s eyebrows had slowly risen higher into her hairline as her ambassador spoke and she turned to exchange a look with the old man, who merely huffed in exasperation. Clearly, nobody cared about proper titles anymore.

      John gave Sherlock a hard look, but then relented. “Sorry, M’Lord,” he said with an irritated sniff.

      “Alright then. It’s settled. Sherlock’s in charge of security,” Queen Janine said. She eyed Sherlock and struggled not to burst out laughing when his flushed face avoided her stare.

      Deeper into the city the domed buildings connected with each other through intricately carved tunnels and bridges. John viewed the patterns peeking from behind vines on the walls as he followed Sherlock down a tranquil path. Sherlock’s entire city appeared to be tranquil actually. He led them to an alcove, almost completely hidden from view by some stone steps.

      John was happily back in his regular clothes, as was Sherlock. John had mostly only seen Sherlock wear dark colors, but today he was wearing a silver cloak and blue headpiece that matched the periwinkle tunic peeking out from his neckline. The cloak and headpiece shimmered like Naboo water as he stepped out from under the tunnel’s shadow, and once again John had to remind himself he was here on a mission, not on holiday.

      Sherlock faced John and said, “We’re here.”

      A middle aged woman who resembled Sherlock very much, answered the door. She gave both men a warm smile and Sherlock, a hug. “My mother,” Sherlock deadpanned which only made his mother squeeze him tighter and say, “Behave you! Oh we were worried. Thank goodness you two are alright.” The corners of her eyes crinkled much like Sherlock whenever he laughed and John was surprised to find himself hugged as well.

      She led them down a hall into the dining room, where a long rectangular table was already set. A humble looking man sat at the end and he and John shared a silent greeting. By the delicious aroma of the room, John could tell that Mrs. Holmes had barely finished cooking.

      “You’re just in time for dinner boys! I hope you’re hungry John.”

      “A little,” John said, flustered that she hadn’t asked his name. He supposed Chancellor Mycroft had something to do with it.

      “He’s being polite Mummy,” Sherlock said as he sat down.

      “Well you’ve come to the right place at the right time,” the man at the end of the table said kindly.

      Sherlock officially introduced his father to John and they all began serving themselves.

      “Honey it’s so good to see you safe. Like I was saying, we were so worried,” Mrs. Holmes said.

      Mr. Holmes paused from eating and gave his wife a look of disbelief crossed with concern. “Dear,” he said-a soft reprimand. It was obvious he didn’t want to bring their worries out in front of Sherlock, most likely even discussed them beforehand.

      “I know, I know,” Mrs. Holmes said, “but I had to say it. Now it’s done.” She took a bite and seemed to reset. “Well, but this is exciting! Do you know John, Sherlock’s never brought a friend home?”

      Sherlock nearly choked on his drink.

      “Mummy, he’s assigned by Mycroft to protect me,” he said, head bowed as if ashamed. “He’s obligated to be here."

      But there was something else in his tone. John didn’t know what, but it forced him to say, “Well I’m happy to be here. And protect a friend.”

      His words left a short, stunned, but somehow also pleased, silence in its wake. Sherlock poked at his food resolutely, his eyes wide and vulnerable. His parents shared a soft smile as they looked at their son in unison. As quick as it came, the spell was broken.

      “Well he did tell us they assigned you a Jedi knight, but we didn’t know we’d get to have him over for dinner!” Mrs. Holmes said briskly, in an attempt to move on and away from the subject.

      “It’s a pleasure to have you here John, whether you’re here watching over our son or not,” said Mr. Holmes.

      “Yes, isn’t this nice Sherlock? Why don’t you just settle down and come back home? You can invite John whenever you like and leave behind your dangerous life.”

      “Mum, I’m not in any danger.”

      “Is he?” Mrs. Holmes asked John suddenly.

      John hesitated before meeting her eyes and saying, “Yes…I’m afraid he is.”

      “But not much,” Sherlock added hastily.

      “Because I won’t let anything happen to him,” John reassured with such unexpected passion that he surprised even himself.

      Once again, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes only smiled at him in silence. Though slightly embarrassed, John couldn’t help but feel a little pleased with himself, especially at the look on Sherlock’s face throughout the rest of dinner.

      Afterward he was taken for a walk in the yard by Mr. Holmes, but it was clear it was only an excuse to speak to John in private. He finished telling John about all the work he had done to keep the plant life happy and healthy, and turned to face him. His warm expression slowly turned worried.

      “Listen, John, I don’t want Sherlock to know how much we worry about him-you know what he’s like,” he said with a slight smile, “but please be honest with me. How serious is this? How much danger is my son really in?”

      If John hadn’t been told that this man was Sherlock’s father he never would’ve guessed, not because he didn’t resemble him, he did, but because his demeanor was the complete opposite of his son. Whereas Sherlock was quick, sharp, and intimidating, his father was soft-spoken and had a gentle calmness about him. It was so unexpected. He looked harmless and could pass for a frail aging man. It only made it harder for John to tell him the truth.

      “There have been two attempts on his life. Chances are there’ll be more. My master is tracking down the assassins. I’m sure he’ll find out who they are. He’ll be out of danger in no time.” John tried to give the older man a smile.

      “Thank you again, John. I don’t want anything to happen to him.”

      John nodded. Silently, he agreed.

      “And I can’t tell you how happy it makes me that he’s made a friend.” Mr. Holmes beamed.

      John smiled back and tried not to think about how he had never felt more at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really love Blushing Sherlock
> 
> Should I add it to the tags?


	8. Shattering Sunset

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to Sherlock’s POV sorta.  
> Anyway here’s wonderwall

“He’s handsome isn’t he?” Mrs. Holmes said casually.

John and Sherlock’s father were strolling down a green path, visible through the counter window where Mrs. Holmes was washing dishes. 

“Hadn’t noticed,” he muttered, absolutely not pretending to fiddle with Redbeard’s settings while glancing out the window every few seconds. It was bad enough that his cheeks had been practically ablaze through the entire meal. He was not going to let his mother get any further ideas and cause him more trouble.

“Something wrong with the dishwasher?” he asked. 

“Oh no, just decided to do it the old fashioned way,” Mrs. Holmes replied. 

Sherlock scowled. 

“And the food? Why didn’t you just get the servants to serve us?” 

“Oh I haven’t done it in ages have I? Thought it’d be nice to prepare John something myself. Anyway about John-“ 

“Mum, stop it.”

“It’s obvious he cares about you.”

“It’s his job to care about me. Our relationship is strictly professional.”

“It doesn’t have to be.”

“Mum, he’s a Jedi!” Sherlock said exasperated. 

“So?”

“I’m going to my room,” Sherlock grumbled.

His room was located in a different part of the house, sort of sectioned off as a separate building of its own that faced a lake. From the dining room, he only had to cross the terrace and bridge that were down the hall and straight across. R2B2 followed him, helpfully bringing half his luggage along.

He unpacked quickly and efficiently—only the equipment he’d need for his research. He had a scan of the dart the bounty hunter had used to kill the hit-man ready and set for analysis. Meanwhile R2B2 extracted the kouhans’ remains and left them for Sherlock to examine as well. If he was going to succeed in escaping John’s watchful eye, he had to work fast. He didn’t know how long he had been working. It wasn’t quite dark yet, but probably would be soon. He was so focused that he gave a start when John appeared from behind.

“Guess it wasn’t that much of a change when you moved into the palace huh?” John said, craning his neck to admire the high domed ceiling as he entered the room. The room had been through several alterations over the years. It had a skylight and large bookshelves had been built in along most of the walls. They nearly reached the skylight and towered much higher than the room Sherlock had occupied back on Curoscant. Similar to the one ceiling-to-floor window in that Senate room, there were two adjacent ones overlooking the lake and wildlife behind it. And wherever there wasn’t a towering bookshelf, there was an extended curving desk attached to the rounded wall, covered in beakers, all manners of scrolls, and other science equipment. The bed was almost unidentifiable and looked added as an afterthought. There were few framed holograms on the little space left of the walls and only one chair. John gaped at the space. It all looked about to burst with the unbelievable amount of objects it contained.

A hologram next to a shelf holding a human skull caught John’s eye, and he moved closer.

“Is this you?” he asked, smiling at the small frame.

Sherlock felt his face flush. It was. In the hologram, he was six or seven. He was laughing and hugging R2B2 on some island with an adolescent Mycroft standing behind them. The teenager was heavier then, and smiling down at his younger brother. Sherlock had only kept the image in his room because it was the day Mycroft had gifted him Redbeard.

“R2B2 likes that photo,” he mumbled in defense.

The little droid hummed.

“Mycroft’s even fatter in that other one.”

John seemed to humor him in his attempt at distraction and looked at the other hologram.

It was the whole family at Mycroft’s coronation ceremony. Sherlock was older and clearly unhappy. Mycroft looked barely of age as he stood proudly accepting his new duties as King. Sherlock wondered why he had never bothered to take down the stupid frame and chalked it up to his mother stubbornly keeping it there. Or perhaps he kept the two photos side by side so that he’d remember when everything changed between the two of them.

John didn’t say anything to the second hologram. He turned around to keep marveling at the room.

“I’m surprised you don’t have a telescope. This place looks like an observatory!”

“Mm,” Sherlock muttered.

“What’s that?” John asked, looking at something leaning against the window.

“A violin.”

John gave a blank look.

“An instrument.”

“A musical one?”

“Yes John,” Sherlock sighed. He rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

“Never seen one. You play?” he asked, delighted. “Can I hear you?”

“Honestly John, not now! I’m trying to figure out why this planet isn’t showing up on the archive maps!”

“See this is why you need a telescope,” John said.

“John this is serious!”

“Well, what planet is it?”

“Kamino.”

“Hmm, doesn’t sound familiar. Maybe it’s beyond the outer rim.”

“It’s supposed to be, but it isn’t! Look, gravity is pulling all these stars inward, but there’s nothing there,” Sherlock said, brows furrowed in frustration.

“Well maybe someone deleted it,” John suggested.

“Don’t be daft John. It can’t be that simple. Someone can’t just de-wait…That’s it! Of course someone just deleted it! John that’s brilliant!” he said, leaping out of his chair in excitement.

John grinned back.

“So Kamino is there…”

“Why would someone delete a planet from a map? Must not be very well known if deleting it from the archives will prevent beings from going there. What d’you think was on it?” John asked.

Sherlock sat back down and pressed his hands together underneath his chin in thought.

“No, no. They just didn’t want to be found themselves.”

“Who?” John asked.

“Hm?”

“Who doesn’t want to be found?”

“Oh. Er, it doesn’t matter.”

Sherlock got off his chair and crossed the room to retrieve his violin.

“You wanted to hear me play right?” Sherlock asked, flicking his bow into the air and catching it with a charismatic smile.

“Sherlock. Despite what you may think, I’m not actually an idiot,” John said, folding his arms.

“Jo—”

“Hang on, those are the things that broke into your room the night we met!” John exclaimed, noticing the chopped kouhans R2B2 was holding. Sherlock belatedly ran to block John from seeing the tray.

“This is about the case isn’t it? The bounty hunter—he’s on Kamino!”

Sherlock looked at John warily. He expected his anger and a forced reminder that his brother had put John in charge.

Instead, John asked, “How did you even figure that out?”

“It’s simple. The markings left on the dart,” Sherlock explained, showing John the scan.

“Those symbols are from Kamino?

“No, the actual markings left when the dart was made. The symbols didn’t get me anywhere so instead I researched those little cuts on the side and found out it’s a Kamino Saber dart.”

“Brilliant!” John said and Sherlock smiled. “But you’re still not going.”

“Who says I’m going?” Sherlock asked, going back to his violin.

“Sherlock.”

But Sherlock started playing and John sighed in defeat. He uncrossed his arms from their disapproving knot as the first notes drifted into the air. He sat down and let the lovely melodies wash over him and pull him under their spell. He watched, captivated by the movements of one hand swaying a bow back and forth and the other remaining still except for some shifting of the fingers, that should have looked unbalanced, but instead looked entirely natural and fluid. Sherlock swayed along, his chin resting on the wider part of the violin as if it was a part of his body. 

Sherlock took great satisfaction in John’s wonder. He was good and distracted now. Sherlock, also had never played for someone other than his family or instructor before, much less someone who possibly saw him as a friend. And so he pulled out all the stops, playing three incredibly complicated songs and one elegant piece he composed himself. He tried telling himself that it was just that—the success of keeping John unsuspicious. Deep down however, he knew he wanted to impress him. He liked whenever John called him brilliant and other compliments. It was an exhilarating feeling, much like whenever he solved a case, only better. Just being around him made him up his game. Deleting a planet from the archives! Why hadn’t he thought of that? Only John and his unique way of thinking could’ve given him the answer. If it weren’t for him, he probably wouldn’t have figured it out. He was like the spark to Sherlock’s genius—a conductor of light. Not that he’d ever let John know that. And the way he looked at him sometimes…It made him hope for something. He didn’t know exactly what John was thinking as he watched him play, but his gaze made him feel special for once. He wasn’t some snobby prince or morbid freak to John. He was Sherlock Holmes.

The thought of leaving John behind now drew his playing to a solemn end. John clapped anyway and he bowed bashfully.

They moved down to the ground level, still on Sherlock’s side of the building, where they could watch the sun setting over the lake. The light reflected off the water and Sherlock’s blue tunic as they stood on the veranda. Though it was just the other side of the house, it was a long distance in between. The jungle beyond the lake was full of lively sounds unlike the quiet town at the facade. For a while they remained companionably quiet. 

“You’re family’s lovely,” John said.

“Mummy only cooked because she knew you were coming. She usually has the servants do it.”

John grinned. “She’s lovely all the same.”

Sherlock merely hummed.

“Must’ve been a lot of fun growing up here. Swimming in the lake during hot summers. Fresh shade everywhere…”John tried again.

“I suppose…”

“You mean it wasn’t?”

Sherlock shrugged.

“I mostly spent all my time in my room experimenting.”

“Is that how you got so smart?” John asked with a smile.

Sherlock dipped his chin to his chest, smiling too.

“What about that photo of you and your brother? Looked like you were on that island over there. You looked like you were having fun.”

“Well that was before he turned into a stuffy, pompous old tosser.”

“What happened?”

Sherlock shrugged. “Crown got too tight on his head I guess.”

Birds chirped in the distance.

“Um John?”

“Yeah Sherlock?”

“Do you…am I really your friend?”

John looked at him in surprise.

“Course you are,” he said.

“Oh. That’s um….good.”

John chuckled as the last rays of light faded across the peaks of the far off mountains. The pinks, oranges, and magentas in the sky were slowly blending into darker hues.

“You’ve really never had a friend?” John asked, hesitant.

Sherlock’s smile faded. He cast his eyes down to the water.

“You’ve met me.”

“What about the, er…queen? She seems to like you.”

“Janine? Oh, no. No—she just—she used to um…fancy me,” he finished, confused as to why the admittance was making him blush.

“But not anymore?”

“Girlfriends—not really my area.”

“Ah. Do you have a boyfriend then?”

“N—no.”

“Come on, there must be someone special,” John said grinning. “Someone you play your vi-O-lin for. Someone you share your crazy adventures with. You’re so amazing.”

Sherlock huffed out a laugh.

“It’s ‘violin’ and no…not really,” he said, face still impossibly warm.

He hadn’t realized how close they had gotten. He had his elbows up on the stone banister and John’s arm was brushing up against them. When he turned his head, he nearly bumped into John’s nose.

“Must be lonely,” John said, eyes intense.

“I have R2…” Sherlock murmured, but he wasn’t sure John heard him.

He exhaled shakily, feeling John’s own warm breathe close to his lips.

And then he was being kissed for the first time.

He instinctively shut his eyes as a light breeze came by, and realized he probably should feel cold since he left his silver cloak inside, but he didn’t feel it at all. He was warm all over and was shivering for an entirely different reason. At first John’s mouth was barely touching his own as he was being uselessly still in his shock, but it was better than anything he had ever experienced. Better than when John had first defended him. Better than when he first told him he was brilliant. Better than the high speed chase or how he just confirmed their friendship. It was like a combination of all those things put together in one sweet press of lips. He kissed back shyly; John didn’t seem to mind and then it turned into several soft, closed-mouthed pecks. He grasped the front of John’s robes as the Jedi caressed the nape of his neck with one hand, and the small of his back with the other.

It occurred to Sherlock that John had given him a lot of firsts in the span of a few days and as the kiss continued long after the sky turned dark and the stars came out, he realized he wanted John to keep giving him firsts. He had never felt such trust in anyone. He could really be himself around John because he understood. John was safe.

His eyes fluttered open slowly as they finally parted.

When he saw the regret in John’s expression he suddenly felt very cold indeed. The hope that had been building shattered inside his heart.

“I—I shouldn’t have done that. I—I’m sorry.”

John sounded sincere, but Sherlock turned his face away, desperately trying to get a hold on his emotions. He struggled to keep quiet.

“No—Sherlock…”

“I get it John!” Sherlock spat.

“It’s not…Sherlock, I’m a Jedi! I can’t…”

It was the raw sadness in his voice that made Sherlock turn around again.

John looked as torn as he felt.

“I get it,” he repeated softly.

He tried to smile, but whatever he did didn’t seem to work because John looked more distraught and reached over to embrace him.

“I’m so sorry. If I weren’t a Jedi—”

“I know John,” he said into John’s neck.

Arms still wrapped around each other, they pulled back a little. When their eyes met again Sherlock couldn’t help himself. Apparently neither could John, because he gave him one last kiss before releasing him completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want Sherlock’s room *-*


	9. Mary Morstan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My heart is not in the same place as it was when I started this fic, which is making the next chapter really hard to write, but by Jove I'll get it done!

It wasn’t until hours later, when the whole house was still, that Sherlock got up and packed for Kamino. From his research he was able to find that it was an ocean planet, constantly wet and windy. He folded clothes without really paying attention as to whether they were water-repellant or not.

An entire world with nonstop heavy rainfall, befitting his current mood, he thought. He stood next to his bed, fully packed, but frozen in his hesitance. He finally had the perfect opportunity to set his plan in motion, yet he wasn’t so sure if he wanted to go through with it anymore. John hadn’t been his friend when he had concocted his scheme. And the end to Sherlock’s day…hadn’t really gone the way he would’ve wanted exactly. He hadn’t planned on playing music for John or watching a sunset together. He would never have expected John to kiss him. Ending the kiss made more sense, but it wasn’t comforting in the slightest. Everything felt off. Ruined. Questions of whether John would be angry with him for running away and ending their friendship swirled in his mind. He recalled John’s concern of obeying his master. John would surely be punished for Sherlock’s actions and it’d be all his fault. He yanked on his hair in frustration and decided to hell with it all. So what if John were to get sad? Or angry? What did it matter that John terminated their friendship—that he’d lose the first friend he ever had… 

R2B2’s faint beeping startled him out of his thoughts and he huffed again, more to himself than his droid. 

“No, I’m not getting second thoughts. And what are you doing awake? Do you want the whole house to hear you?” 

“Meep beep wooh.” 

“I’m _not_ projecting any self-anger on you.” 

R2B2’s answering beep was doubtful. 

“Who cares about John? He changes nothing. I—” 

“Bwreeeb woorb.” 

“I _don’t_ care,” he hissed back, “and shush! “John will hea—” 

“Why am I not surprised?” came John’s resigned voice from behind. 

Sherlock nearly jumped. 

There was the young Jedi, standing beneath the threshold, disappointment palpable from his face down to his folded arms. His golden hair was ruffled from sleep. The bags under his eyes however, showed he had probably already been awake for a while. 

“Nightmare?” 

John’s grim expression briefly appeared anxious, but he quickly masked it with indifference. 

“I thought we agreed you’d stop working on the case.” 

“No, _you_ agreed to it and I said ‘we’ll see’. I can do whatever I want,” Sherlock said. 

“No you can’t. Not when your life is in danger Sherlock.” 

“All the more reason for me to get my answers!” 

“Dammit Sherlock, we are going to get you answers, but you can’t keep risking your life to get them!” 

“Why not?” 

“B-because!” John stuttered, completely thrown off. 

“Oh yes, solid argument, well done John.” 

“Why can’t you let this go? Why can’t you just let other people help you?” 

“Because they’re all idiots!” 

“Nice to know what you think of me,” John deadpanned, but his tone didn’t manage to hide the hurt. 

“No-no, that’s not what I-Argh!” Sherlock lapsed into frustrated silence. 

After a moment John sighed and crossed the room. 

“Sherlock, do you really not know why you can’t risk your life?” he asked gently. 

Sherlock slowly shook his head. Unaccustomed to look up at John because of their height difference, he felt foolish when peering up at John’s blue eyes from beneath his eyelashes. 

“Sherlock…you can’t because…because it’s far too important.” 

Sherlock scoffed, but John hurried on. 

“Sherlock, the whole galaxy needs you. Your family needs you. You are so, so important to so many beings.” 

“The _galaxy_. Oh _please_. Any idiot could replace my job and I’ve never taken it seriously. Ask my dear brother. He loves to remind everyone of all my stupid mistakes any chance he gets. How I’m the screw up and he’s the good one, the successful one, the smart one. Someone to be proud of.” He turned his back on John to glare at the holograms of Mycroft and himself. “Everyone always fawned over him while I’ve been nothing but trouble since the day I was born. I’ve always been a burden to my family—something to constantly worry about. Trust me, they’re all better off without me. I’m just a hindrance.” 

“Hindrance or not they love you.” 

“You and _love_ ,” Sherlock said almost as if disgusted by the taste of the word. He spun around to point his glare at John. "As far as I'm concerned, whether I endanger my life or not, they'll worry about me. I might as well make myself useful and not let their worry go to waste." 

John growled in frustration, stepping closer to Sherlock. 

“Maybe it’s a ‘hindrance’ constantly worrying about you, but it’d be far more painful losing you. And my master is making himself useful so you don’t have to! I don’t see the problem!” 

“Keep your voice down,” Sherlock hissed, “The problem is that it’s none of your business what I do with my life!” 

“It’s exactly my business!” 

“Why do you even care?” 

“Why don’t you?” John shot back. 

“For the love of-!” Sherlock said, rustling his hair into something wilder than before. He had to keep himself from pulling violently and only barely managed it. “All that matters to me is the work. Sentiment is nothing but a distraction-a chemical defect found on the losing side. You should count yourself lucky you don’t have such a liability.” 

“You think I don’t worry about _my_ family?” John seethed. “You think I don’t care about _you_?” 

They were nearly nose to nose in their heated argument and Sherlock pressed his lips together in discomfort, both from misspeaking, and from the memory of the last time their faces were this close. 

Stepping back he said in a much more calm voice, “I-you haven’t seen them in many years… There’s nothing you can do for them…I just-I assumed…” 

“Yeah well you assumed wrong,” said John. 

Several uncomfortable minutes passed. Sherlock fidgeted as John stared him down. When he couldn’t take it anymore he stomped away to grab his luggage and muttered, “As I said, a hindrance,” before turning around once more to stalk out of the room. 

John blocked his path. 

“No, wait Sherlock. Just…hold on a second.” He inhaled, exhaled, and miraculously made all the tension fade away within the same breathe. Even Redbeard, who had swerved his lens back and forth between the two during the argument, relaxed. 

“Look,” John paused to take another breathe, “I know…I understand why this is frustrating to you and why you don’t want to just sit around waiting for something to happen. I admit that if I were in your place…well I wouldn’t want to stand by either. So…” He licked his lips apprehensively. “What if I asked Sholto about what he finds on Kamino? No, listen. He’ll eventually go investigating there and if we tell him what you’ve found, he’ll be happy that we were able to make the process quicker. At the same time he’ll think you’re satisfied with the little bit you’ve done on your own, which will make him never suspect that I plan on telling you anything. Especially since I’ve hardly ever disobeyed him anyway.” 

He waited with bated breath as Sherlock considered his proposition. His expression was verging on pleading and Sherlock was unable to deny to himself how adorable it made the Jedi look. 

Slowly, he lowered his luggage and smiled. It was hesitant and clumsy, but it brought a smile to John’s face nonetheless. 

“Hardly ever huh?” Sherlock teased. 

John rolled his eyes fondly. He stooped to snatch Sherlock’s luggage away and dumped it on the bed. 

Sherlock smirked and followed. He plopped himself next to his luggage and smugly leaned back with his hands splayed behind him. 

“Go on then, contact Sholto and tell him how much smarter I am than him.” 

John threw an article of clothing that had fallen to the floor at Sherlock’s face. They laughed and John replied with, “Tomorrow genius.” 

“ _First_ thing tomorrow,” Sherlock corrected, smoothing his disheveled hair in a pompous manner. 

“Fine, but get some sleep now.” 

When John was under the threshold Sherlock asked, “And what brought you to my room so late into the night Master Jedi?” He didn’t know what had made him flirt so unabashedly, flirt at all really, but John deciding to help him against all odds had him feeling a lot better. 

“I knew you’d try and do it on your own you twit, I’m not an idiot,” John said, but there was no bite to it. It seemed they were completely back on good terms. 

“I beg to differ.” 

They shared one more playful look then John was out in the hall, saying goodnight, and shutting the door. Sherlock let himself drop onto his back and slid his hands beneath his head. Trailing down the hall, he could hear John mutter to himself, “Protect the ambassador they said. It’ll be easy they said.” He chuckled to himself as R2B2 made I-told-you-so beeps. 

The morning brought an awkwardness Sherlock hadn’t been expecting. Despite the easiness they had teasing each other the night before, there was something still there between them. What, he _didn’t_ know. What he did know was that he didn’t know how to act in front of John. They were terribly polite to each other and when John passed him a plate at breakfast, their hands brushed and he retracted immediately. He felt his mother’s eyes never leave him and knew she was aware that something significant had taken place, but not exactly what. He avoided looking back at her. His father on the other hand was oblivious as ever. 

After everyone had excused themselves from the table, he and John hurried back to his room. Sherlock was impatient to make the call, which only made John stall by coming up with stupid task after stupid task beforehand, to his own amusement and Sherlock’s annoyance; until Sherlock threatened to take his lightsaber and use it against him. Laughing, John finally made the call. 

The glowing blue projection of Master Sholto crackled into view. 

“What is it John? Everything alright?” came his static-y voice. 

“Yes Master. We’re safe here in the senator’s family home,” John spoke up. 

“Good.” 

“Master, there’s some information Senator Holmes would like to report to you that can help in your investigation.” 

Master Sholto sighed. “I thought I told you that he is not to-“ 

“They’re Kamino saber darts,” Sherlock cut in impatiently. 

Master Sholto paused in his lecture and frowned as he looked at Sherlock. 

“Kamino? And where did you get this information?” 

“I simply researched the cuts in the construction of the dart, honestly it’s so easy, I don’t understand how you all get on with those funny little things you call-“ 

“ _Sherlock_ thinks the killer is hiding out in Kamino,” John said quickly, throwing a side-glare at Sherlock. “We searched the planet. Someone’s deleted it from the archives, but it’s in the outer rim. It should be there.” 

Master Sholto looked from one boy to the other and shut his eyes as he gave a long suffering sigh. 

He stared a while longer at Sherlock before relenting. “Very well Senator. I will look into the darts myself. If, and only if they’re really from Kamino, I’ll search there. But this is the end of your own sleuthing,” he said sternly. “The both of you.” 

“Yes Master,” John agreed before Sherlock could turn his noise of protest into articulate words. “May the force be with you Master.” 

“And with you,” Master Sholto nodded and dissolved. 

John let out a sigh of relief and sank onto Sherlock’s bed. Sherlock was too busy pacing to notice. 

“The end of my sleuthing? Ha! Wouldn’t he like that.” 

“Sherlock,” John said warily. 

The pacing stopped and Sherlock plonked himself next to John. For a moment they didn’t speak. They simply stared at clouds passing over the skylight. 

“I hate this part.” 

“Waiting?” 

“It’s so tedious,” Sherlock groaned. He pressed his hands to his eyes overdramatically and could hear the smile in John’s voice when he said, “You’ll find something to do.” 

Sherlock rolled his head to the side and came face to face with John, who looked back at him with a warm smile. Sherlock smiled back. 

“You know...now that you say that, I guess there were fun things to do around here when I was younger.” 

Of bloody course young Senator Holmes was right about the saber darts, Master Sholto thought to himself as he settled his ship on the nearest landing platform. Rain was pelting down hard on the old man, along with worry about his padawan. Already a few days of knowing the senator and John was arguing and questioning his methods. He knew John had had a rough start to becoming a Jedi and that he craved companionship every now and again, but his obvious feelings for the boy were starting to concern him. Leaving behind his worries in his ship, he pulled his hood over his head and hopped out onto the slippery metal floor. The front door of the building slid open for him and he reveled in the warmth inside. 

A female Kaminoan appeared as soon as he walked in, strangely reminding him of Sherlock, with her tall thin body and large almond shaped eyes. 

“Master Jedi,” she said in a soft, gentle tone. “The Prime Minister is expecting you.” 

“I’m expected?” 

“Of course. He is anxious to meet you. After all these years. We were beginning to think you weren’t coming. Now please. This way.” 

That was certainly curious. 

He was taken to meet Lama Su, who was convinced Master Sholto was there to inspect a clone army. Apparently Master Jennifer Wilson had ordered the Kaminoans to create it for the Republic. There was a problem though. Master Jennifer Wilson had died ten years ago. As far as Master Sholto knew, nobody in the council had any knowledge that a clone army was being made. The longer he stayed, the more worrisome the whole situation appeared. Not only was someone trying to kill the senator, but whoever it was was also involved in a far more elaborate scheme. Playing along as if everything was fine, he agreed to inspect the clones for himself. When he was told that the original clone host lived nearby, he asked to meet her. 

Taun We, the Kaminoan who had first greeted him, arranged the meeting. Upon reaching the clone host’s door, a little blonde girl answered. 

“Is your mother here?” Taun We asked. 

“Yes.” 

“May we see her?” 

“Sure,” the little girl said, eyeing Master Sholto skeptically. 

She turned back into her home as Master Sholto and Taun We followed. 

“Mum, Taun We’s here!” 

A young woman stepped out, around John’s age, blonde and blue eyed. If he hadn’t been told that she had adopted an unaltered clone as her daughter, Master Sholto would’ve simply truly believed the little girl to be a normal spitting image of herself. 

“Mary, welcome back. Was your trip productive?” Taun We asked, as lighting struck outside, muffled by the thick metal walls of the building. 

“Fairly,” Mary said, keeping her gleaming eyes steady on Master Sholto. 

“This is Master James Sholto. He’s come to check on our progress.” 

“Your clones are very impressive. You must be very proud,” Master Sholto said, returning Mary’s sharp gaze. 

“I’m just a simple woman trying to make my way in the universe.” 

“Ever made your way as far into the interior as Coruscant?” 

“Once or twice.” 

“Recently?” 

“Oh possibly,” Mary giggled, eyes flashing dangerously. 

“Then you must know Master Jennifer Wilson.” 

“Sorry, no,” Mary said convincingly. 

“Jennifer Wilson. Isn’t she the Jedi who hired you for this job?” 

Mary stepped away to say something in Kaminoan to her daughter before saying, “No, I was recruited by a man called Tyranus on one of the moons of Bogden.” 

The little girl walked off towards the hall as Mary continued, chatting comfortably as if talking about the weather. 

“Do you like your army?” 

“I look forward to seeing them in action.” 

“They’ll do their job well,” Mary said with a smile. “I’ll guarantee that.” 

“Thank you for your time Mary.” 

Master Sholto bowed farewell. 

“Always a pleasure to meet a jedi,” Mary said. 

And with that Master Sholto left the bounty hunter’s home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't realized that I posted this on our fave detective's birthday! Happy Birthday Sherlock Holmes!


End file.
